


Doctor's On Strike, What You Need Is A Rest

by 1f_this_be_madness



Series: Beyond the Rhapsody [8]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Banter, Ben is quite strong, Cuddling & Snuggling, Epic Friendship, Gen, I friggin adore Ben and Gwil's friendship, One Shot, Platonic Cuddling, Queen (Band) References, Sick Character, Singing, Sleepy Cuddles, They seem to quietly understand each other and I find that beautiful, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 03:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1f_this_be_madness/pseuds/1f_this_be_madness
Summary: Illnesses have the power to affect people in multitudinous ways, and depending upon their personalities, it can be a bit of a chore for them to get the care they need, and to ask for it. But if one has close friends who know precisely how stubborn they can be, people are able to receive comfort; even, at times, in spite of themselves.(Or, during sickness, as through health, Ben watches out for Gwil.)





	Doctor's On Strike, What You Need Is A Rest

Illnesses have the power to affect people in multitudinous ways, and depending upon their personalities, it can be a bit of a chore for them to get the care they need, and to ask for it. But if one has close friends who know precisely how stubborn they can be, people are able to receive comfort; even, at times, in spite of themselves.

When Gwilym Lee gets sick he tries to make soup and take care of himself, eating orange slices and taking antihistamines. One day after being ill for about a week or so, not able to shake it, he gets a call. He is standing in his kitchen wearing old clothes, hair mussed and face unshaven, likely looking as ragged as he feels. He hears the phone ring from what sounds like kilometres away, under water, and blinks, lunging for it. But as he moves Gwil gets light-headed. Color leeches out of his vision and his ears feel blocked. His mouth goes dry and he abruptly falls, knocking the handset, and himself, to the floor. 

"...'Lo?" Gwil groans from the tile as he finally answers the phone. He's unclear how many rings have occured and how much time has elapsed.

On the other end of the line is Ben Hardy's worried voice: "Gwil, what's wrong, I heard a thump. You alright mate?"

Gwil groans again as he weakly scrubs a hand across his face. "Ughhh, nope. But I will be. Don't bother yourself, Ben, I'm sick."

"I'm coming over."

"No, mate, don't--I don't want you to get ill too!"

But Ben has already hung up the phone and is on his way. 

Gwil sighs and drops the phone, and sighs again when he hears the doorbell ring. How much time later, again he cannot tell. He contemplates ignoring the door, but figures Ben will only worry more if he doesn’t answer. Ben knows where Gwil's spare key is, however, and lets himself into the flat because Gwil doesn't pull himself up fast enough to suit. 

Striding swiftly into the kitchen, Ben finds Gwil lying on the cold tile floor, curled up a bit, shivering. His light blue eyes are piteous. The blond throws the spare key on the counter and hustles over.

“I thought I told you not to come, Ben,” the Welshman says. Growls, more like-- or tries to; but his squinty stare isn't intimidating since he is sprawled out looking like shit.

"Yeah, you did," Ben kneels in front of his friend with a grunt, one strong hand grasping Gwil's chin. "But you're a bloody idiot if you think I'm too worried about a little head cold to help my friend."

Gwil sighs fondly. “Thanks.”

"Of course," Ben swallows. His green-blue gaze holds Gwil's and then travels over the rest of his face. God, he looks terrible. Frightfully pale for one thing, and obviously weak. "C'mon mate, up you get." 

Ben's muscular arms wrap around him, and Gwil for the first time realises exactly how strong he is, as Ben can lift someone much taller than he without strain. “Geez, mate, you probably don’t weigh sixty grams soaking wet.” He jokes, though his friend does feel incredibly thin. Thus as Gwil sways and falls against him, Ben understands Roger worrying so much for Brian all those years ago. Both of them are concerned about how skinny their tall friend is. The only difference here is that Gwil isn't _overly_ thin, but Ben can tell how ill he is because of how little he weighs. "How much have you been eating, Gwilym?" He asks softly, half-carrying his friend over to the couch.

“Apparently not as much as you, Mr. Muscles. How the hell can you practically lift me?” Gwil returns.

Ben chuckles as he helps Gwil sit. "Oh go on, mate. Lots of gym time, I guess. And carbohydrates. You _do_ know what those are, right?"

Gwil uses a bony elbow to gently nudge Ben in the side and rolls his eyes as well, which sends a sharp burst of relief through Ben's chest. He had been worried for a moment there. "Yes, Benjamin, I do."

“Whatever you say, mate,” Ben teases.

"Oh piss off."

"No, I won't. I'm making you food and a cuppa hot tea or something. You do have actual food here, yes?" Gwilym nods. He has shuffled to the corner of the couch, drawing his long legs up to his chest. But something in his pale face and dimmer-than-usual blue eyes makes Ben swallow hard and push his friend's dark hair back, keeping a warm grasp on his head. He doesn't think he ought to get off the couch just yet, as he had seated himself down beside Gwilym. "Right. I'll sit here for a moment." Gwil nods, eyes closing as he draws in a breath, one hand reaching out and clutching a bit of Ben's sleeve. The fabric bunches and wrinkles as Gwil's fingers curl round and hold on. 

Gwil falls asleep before long, and Ben is reluctant to risk waking him when he so desperately needs the rest. Ben supposes he can wait to fix something to eat until Gwil is awake again and not grasping at his clothing, holding him in place. The wrinkle between his friend's brows has smoothed out now that Gwil is unconscious, for the moment oblivious to his sickened condition. His head rests on Ben’s shoulder, and he is letting out soft little snores that Ben can feel against his neck every time Gwil exhales. 

Ben carefully shifts his shoulders to find a more comfortable position, and freezes when Gwilym moves. But all Gwil does is curl farther into Ben, lifting his hand off Ben's nearer sleeve to wrap around him, fingers curling across Ben's torso and resting against his side as Gwil's cheek presses against his warm chest. Ben lifts his arm to curl around his friend's face, fingers stroking Gwil's soft dark hair gently as he sleeps. Ben hums, deep voice scratching a bit on half-remembered lyrics of some lullaby his mum used to sing to him. Or maybe his grandmum had; he doesn't remember. Doesn't even realise he's doing it til he actually starts singing aloud to Gwil softly, an old ballad that's probably not a technical lullaby.

Ben strokes Gwil's hair and cheek as he croons "Oh Gwil my boy," voice deep and rough and so so soft as Gwil's head tips back and his breaths come quiet. The melody and the rumble of Ben’s chest as he sings soothes Gwilym into a deeper sleep. 

Even in unconsciousness, he is incredibly grateful that his friend is here.

**Author's Note:**

> My thanks go out to the BoRhap lads for being lovely people and such good friends. Many thanks to my dear friend for her assistance with this piece <3 Thank you, Vi love.
> 
> Friendship and care between people when one of them is feeling poorly makes me soft. Goodness I appreciate these boys, and I want to showcase their care for one another in any and every way possible. And I expect the nomadic lifestyle that is acting can wear people down at times; cue Gwilym's illness.
> 
> The title of this piece comes from "Friends Will Be Friends", a song written by the wonderful pair of mates that is Freddie Mercury and John Deacon :D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this!


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